


Past the Mountains

by idontknowhowtofinishaproject



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/F, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Canon, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 07:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontknowhowtofinishaproject/pseuds/idontknowhowtofinishaproject
Summary: Bilbo didn't stay long after the battle. She knew that Thorin and her boys would live; she knew that her dwarves would live and prosper now that they have their mountain. She knew that she had no place among them- that was made apparent.  She knew the best way to move on was to go home, but she's not returning alone.





	Past the Mountains

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoy; this fic has been floating around in my mind for about a year now. Now I've finally written it down and (hopefully) enjoy yourselves. 
> 
> eli

The air seemed so much clearer when they left the Mirkwood. She finally felt like she could really breathe when the forest was gone. Her lungs were clear and she could not taste the oppression the wood seemed to be fond of. That did not seem to stop the misfortune she seemed to be having with her current company.  


Travelling the roads was tough enough with thirteen dwarves, but with a band of elves it was even worse. It wasn’t their fault they were so much bigger than her, but at least when she was with the dwarves they could see her, mostly. The elves didn’t mean to almost step on her, but she was quiet, even to their ears. They were very busy with the traveling and handling of their men, and she was just riding along until she could get what she needed. Besides, it would be better if she didn’t bring unnecessary attention to her situation, to put it delicately. 

It’s been about two months since they left after the battle, and the party had just reached the out stretch of Beorn’s lands. The Mirkwood was not good for Bilbo or her condition; it was too risky for them all, with the spiders and the impending doom the wood seemed to reek of. The elves could sense her unease with the land. Elves knew that hobbits were very connected with the land, with all of their gardening and such, and if one felt uneasy it was good to get out of there. Bilbo was never very outspoken when with company, but when they asked, she always gave the same response.

“I don’t like these woods. I never did; it’s sick here.”

They arrived in Beorn’s land at dusk, not a very safe time for them but they needed to get out of the wood as soon as they could. They land was quiet and dark to the elves, but to Bilbo it was safe and familiar. She saw fireflies in the tall grass, heard the deer move in the short woods, felt the area lift the heaviness in her heart the Mirkwood left behind. Suddenly the air sparked with a threatening growl, a bear from the sound of it. There’s only one bear in these parts, and he was not to be trifled with at this point in the day. The elves formed a circle with her in the middle, aiming they weapons at the shiftier.

‘The fools!’

The shiftier snarled, in a complete haze, and shifted his weight on to his hind legs, ready to attack. Bilbo fought to move to the front of the elves, but they wouldn’t budge. She pushed again, but they only tightened the circle, feeling her want to escape. She couldn’t get out, so she need for Beorn to come in, peacefully if possible. They couldn’t get hurt. So she did the only thing she could think of, she screamed.

“Beorn! Don’t!” She yelled at the top of her lungs. Her voice was desperate, even for him in his animalistic haze. The elves stiffened in their already tense postures. The bear stilled but remained ready to attack as she made her way through the opening in the circle her outburst made. She stumbled out and looked up to be almost nose to nose with the shiftier. His eyes were harsh and cold, like the animal he was at the moment. Her mind flashed her eyes similar to those but filled with cold madness. She shivered at the thought of him and forced herself back to the situation at hand.

She looked into the snifters eyes with a pleading look of desperation. She carefully raised her hand up, staying in his line of sight, and slowly reached for his face. She was just close enough to feel his heat when the bear man growled at her then took a large sniff. He would remember her; she knew he would. She just hoped she wasn’t wrong about this one too.  


The full black of his eyes reduced enough for her to see the whites of his eyes and the human that came through to recognize her. He could smell them, and the absence of a threat. The shiftier relaxed his body and leaned into her hand at the side of his face. Bilbo sighed and ran her finger through his thick, almost black color, fur. She touched their foreheads together to show just how safe she felt with him there. She knew he could smell them, her fear, her exhaustion and her sadness. He moved back, looked in her eyes and then rubbed his nose to her midsection, signaling his knowledge of her condition. He huffed a warm breath then lowered himself to the ground. Bilbo took that as an incentive for her to get on his back. The warmth of Beorn was heavenly compared to her puny cloak. She buried her face into his fur and decided to rest her eyes for a while; then she promptly fell asleep.  


The elves stood amazed at the hobbit lass. They had known she helped slay the dragon, but they never figured she was actually as fearless as the elves of Mirkwood said. To put up with Thorin Oakensheild for months, and then help him reclaim his home only to be almost killed and banished from the Lonely Mountain, the placed she helped save from the dragons hold, was amazing in itself, but to see her take on a shiftier in his haze in person was another thing all together. 

The shiftier raised and looked at the elves, both parties still tense, and grunted with a stiff head gesture to the cottage that could be seen behind the bear. The elves slowly relaxed, some still on edge, and cautiously followed the bear to the warm shelter. Their steps seamed to echo in the night air. As the group approached the cottage, a small herd of sheep came to take their things and bring them food and blankets. Beorn simply continued deeper into the lush garden. The captain of the squadron followed the bear with his eyes and saw something he never expected. 

The man-now-bear found a patch of grass and wildflowers he liked and decided to settle down. He turned in place for a couple seconds and decided that the ground was now suitable to lie on. He gently lowered himself down to the ground; conscious of the hobbit on his back, he turned his body so that it would, slowly, lay her down on the bed of flowers. Bilbo shifted when she landed and whimpered out words the elf captain could barely hear, but they struck a chord in him.

“Thorin, Please.”

Beorn tensed and snarled lowly in his throat before he circled the hobbit lady and settled down behind her to curl himself around her. The elf watched as the shiftier shared his heat with the creature that seemed so small compared to bear. The captain felt a nudge on his leg and looked down to see a sheep staring at him. The sheep began to go inside. When the elf did not follow the fluffy animal looked at him and bleated. He understood the notion and began his way inside, leaving the shiftier and hobbit to the peaceful night air. 

Bilbo woke warm and with something tickling her nose. She curiously opened her eyes and saw that it was a single blade of grass that was the culprit. Smiling softly, she shifted her head to see exactly where she was. Bilbo saw she was lying on a bed of flowers. A tree stump was in her peripheral vision and a table with stools around it. The last thing she remembers is climbing onto Beorn's back and passing out. 

Suddenly, a bunny appears in front of her face, startling her. She felt her heart stop for a second there. The little thing starts to lean forward and sniff her nose. Bilbo starts to giggle lightly at the sensation on her forehead and cheeks and at the ridiculousness of her scare. ‘It was just a rabbit. Calm down.’ Starting to feel the need to stretch, Bilbo decided she needs to get up and walk about for a bit. The sun was just peaking out and it would be a lovely time to take a stroll, only to find she couldn’t get up. 

Puzzled, Bilbo looked down to see what was holding her down by her waist. She only blinked at the large, hairy, distinctly male arm that was around her. She followed the arm up to it torso, neck, and then a head only to see a very familiar face. The shiftier was curled around her in a defensive position, protecting her. She smiled fondly at Beorn's actions; he was quite the papa bear after all. Bilbo then felt the morning need to relieve herself. 

“Beorn.” She called for the man to wake, but he did not stir from his sleep. She groaned internally as she realized that not only would this take some effort but her bladder could not wait long. 

“Beorn.” Bilbo called his name again, now shaking the man to try and rouse him. She huffed as she saw that it wasn’t working all that well. Her bladder felt heavier and heavier the longer she put off going to the water closet. 

“Beorn!” She yelled for the shiftier in question, now shoving him. He rose with a startle and into a defensive position with her behind him. He was tense as he survived the area for a threat. When there was none present he turned back to Bilbo, only to find her gone. 

“Little Bunny?” Beorn called out. His voice was filled with worry and panic. His eyes widened at the prospect of the idea the little bunny could be in danger or hurt. He looked around more, turning to get a full view, only to see the hobbit on her way inside. He sighed in relief as he heard her response. 

“I’m sorry to startle you Master Beorn, but the babe demands that I relieve myself.” She announced from across the garden on the porch. She opened the door to the cottage and basically threw herself into the restroom. Beorn chuckled at the hobbit lass’ antics, until his ears twitched and he looked to the far left of the house where a figure stood in the shadow of the house. He turned his body to face it fully and snarled at it.

“Show yourself!” He grunted at the creature who felt the need to lurk in the darkness. Beorn keep his gaze sharp when the figure revealed them self to be the elf captain from the troop accompanying the little bunny. The elf’s eyes held curiosity in them as he walked forward, but not too close to the on edge shiftier. It seems the elf wasn’t as daft as he appeared. 

“Mind explaining to me Master Elf why you felt the need to spy on me and the little bunny?” Beorn’s voice was gruff as he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked at the elf with distrust and a hardness in his eyes that showed a fierce protector and seasoned warrior. The elf straightened his back to bring himself confidence while dealing with the shiftier. While he might be centuries old, he knew better than to challenge a shiftier on their own territory.  


“I was simply worried about Miss Baggins.” The elf answered lamely. Beorn leveled the captain with an unbelieving look and finished it off with a raised hairy eyebrow. He hung his head as realized that his answer wound not suffice. The elf signed in defeat and relaxed his stance. He looked up at the shiftier and gave his honest answer.

“While it is true I was worried about Miss Baggins well being last night, I’ve been worried for a couple weeks now. During our short stay in Mirkwood, it was apparent that she was not well, weather that was due to the woods current state of sickness or her own condition she didn’t inform us of. She was constantly sick in the morning or when overcome by a certain smell, her frequent need for a break to-um- relieve herself, a craving for a certain food I could hear her murmuring to herself about. Her symptoms pointed to a sickness, but I didn’t want to over step my bounds by inquiring. But after last night’s display, while you were,” the elf cleared his throat, “in a different state of being, my suspicions were confirmed.” 

“And what might that be?” Beorn asked. He knew her state, could smell it on her when she first arrived. The sweet scent of grass and lavender that was her own; the pine and dirt smell of that grumpy tree stump Oakensheild, and something sweeter, milkier, that he knew was associate with a certain phenomena in nature. The shiftier wanted to know if the elf would have the gall to say it to him. 

“That Ms. Baggins is currently with child.”


End file.
